It's About Time
by Sanura
Summary: Bester's and other's thoughts after brainwashing Garibaldi at the begining of 4th season


It's About Time 

by Sanura 

Author's Notes: This story takes place right after that one episode where the Psi Corp tortures Garibaldi to see if he remembers the reprograming. I don't think Bester had as easy time of it as he implies. It's a short stupid story that only a Garibaldi fan would dare to write. Nothing is spoken telepathicly, so don't worry about that. Spoilers for lots of 4th season and implied spoilers for 5th. 

Bester strode out of the room, and, when the air was done being recycled, took his gas mask off. In the outer room waiting for him sat two men. They, like Bester, wore the black gloves and uniforms of a Psi Cop, and they had the symbol of the Psi Corp pinned to their shirt collars. The two men were of drasticly different ages. They could almost be mistaken for someone's Grandfather and younger brother... until you saw the cold emptiness in their eyes. "Did it work?" the younger of the two asked eagerly. His face showed an emotion for once... exauhastion. The older man glared at his compain, but did not scold him. He knew how the younger man felt, and he could barely keep his own exauhastion and hope that this assignment would finally be over, in check. "Yes. I think this time it did." Bester said thoughtfully. "It's about time." The youngest said with a releived sigh. "I didn't think most mundanes were that hard to change." "Mr. Garibaldi isn't like most mundanes." "We should have had more information, Alfred." The oldest man said, "It could have saved my team a lot of trouble, and Carl, Doug, and Ann would not have been burnt out." Bester flinched; Carl, Doug, and Ann had been three of the most promising telepaths to work in the center in a hundred years. With P12 ratings and a deftness at entering peoples minds they could have been the Corps' greatest team since the project started. Instead now they could hear nothing in their minds; fortunetly their genes were not harmed from their minds "burning out", or being so over streched that they would no longer pick up thoughts. Their children would be telepaths. "I could never get more then a surface scan done when I was on Babylon 5. And all the data on him showed that this should have been an easy job." Bester said in defense. He was normally friends with these people, but two weeks of long days with out much sleep and surprises that made everything harder had not helped anyone's temper. Very privately Bester thought, "He seemed to have a mind like a steel trap; who knew it would be so literal?" Several people coming by with a stretcher brought the three telepaths out of their thoughts; by silent concent they all went to the break room where they had spent all their "free time" for the past two weeks. The room was small, and most of it was taken up with a table and an old worn couch. There was a sink in one corner, and a low shelf in the other. They found a fresh pot of coffee on the shelf, but as the yougest man said, "If I drink one more cup I'll never sleep again." There were some cups and tea bags in the cupboard bellow the coffee pot, so they heated some water to drink that. Once they had all had a cup the conversation started up again, this time about more pleasant matters: Clark giving them more freedom to do what they wanted, promising new arrivals, even baseball, but eventually it turned back to their problems with Mr. Garibaldi. "At least he didn't get out again." The youngest was saying, "I'd like to know how he regained enough conscious thought to open the door." "I'd like to know how he got that close to the outside door." The other mumbled. Bester nodded thouhgtfully, then after a moment asked, "Did you make sure the extra programing I asked you to put in stuck?" The old man nodded, "Yes. If nothing else that will stay." The young telepaht looked at Bester, "What extra programing?" Bester gave an embarassed smile, "Well... lets just say if this doesn't work I'd like to live through my next trip to Babylon 5." "What do you mean, 'if this doesn't work?' I thought you said it worked!" The young man was near panic, this was the first time he'd ever done a mental reprograming, and the fact that after all that time it still might not be right was too much for him. "No, it worked." The two older telepaths reassured him. Bester was silent while the other explained, "The reprograming worked. But if someone finds out, or we send the extra pragraming too quickly, this will all be for nothing. And Bester was the most visible member of our team, and therefor the person who will most likely be blamed for this." "We just have to hope that things on the station are hetic and that they are too busy to notice anything wrong." Bester smiled, "In other words, things have to continue on normally there." Reassured that all was well, the young telepaht smiled. Once again the conversation turned to pleasant matters. 

This is my very first finished fan fiction story be kind. Any and all comments are welcomed at dragons_hat@usa.net Please I beg you tell me what you think. Disclaimer: I keep forgetting to type this in. I say I'll do it later. I guess it's later. I do not own these people. (Who would want the Psi Corp?) They are owned by Babylonian Productions, TNT *grrrr*, and JMS. 


End file.
